Worthy
by whytewytch
Summary: Robin's kicked him out and taken his nest egg—what is Allan to do now? Rating is actually Fiction MA, as there is a brief scene of explicit sex.


**Title:** Worthy

 **Author:** Whytewytch/Whytewytch4 (Live Journal)

 **Word Count:** 1448

 **Rating:** NC-17

 **Warnings:** Small sex scene

 **Characters:** Allan, OFC

 **Disclaimer:** Tiger Aspect and the BBC own the rights to Robin Hood 2006. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made.

 **Summary:** Robin's kicked him out and taken his nest egg—what is Allan to do now?

 **A/N:** Written for "Treat Allan Right" on Live Journal as part of an Intercomm contest. **Reposting a story that I had removed a while back. Sorry-nothing new! :-)**

* * *

Allan wandered the forest, unsure where to go or what to do. Not only had Robin thrown him out of the gang, but he had stolen Allan's stash as well. Allan knew that he could go and rob it back from them, but the idea just did not feel right; he did not want to compound his guilt, even though he knew the money was rightfully his, however dishonestly earned. The day was cool, with the nip of fall in the air, and Allan knew he would have to find shelter for the night if he wanted to wake up the next morning without having the chill settling in his lungs.

The sky was growing dark quickly, and Allan began to get nervous—his footsteps naturally led him toward Locksley, where he found a warm barn to pass the night in. He settled as comfortably as he could in the warmth of a pile of hay, but sleep eluded him as nightmares plagued his mind.

He was truly alone now—there would be no Tom to catch up to anymore, and even if the gang would listen to his reasons for spying, Robin would never. The rest of them would never go against Robin—not for the likes of Allan A' Dale, especially. A part of him wanted to just give up, to chase after his brother after all, into the land of the dead, but he was frightened of what he would find there—would there really be pools of fire, and devils with pitchforks? Allan knew better than to fool himself into thinking that he or Tom would get the harp music and the angels.

A picture of Robin's face in the Trip came to Allan—the sheer and utter disdain that had been written there, along with Robin's "holier than thou" attitude had put Allan's back up, and he knew he would not just lie down and die quietly. He would show Robin—he would show them all, that he was at least as worthy of his place in the sun as Robin.

Morning found Allan being scooted off by the farmer, who did not even recognize the former friend of Robin Hood without the rest of the gang. Allan stretched and made his way to the house of a widow he knew—one that he had passed more than just time with, and who would feed him well; at least, she had always given him a good breakfast before. Allan grinned, thinking that if he had been feeling more like his old self last night, he would have had a much more comfortable bed to sleep in. He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, causing her to cry out in alarm and drop the chicken she had only just caught.

"Allan A' Dale!" she whispered sotto voce, "What are you doing here, and it full daylight? Do you want Sir Guy to catch you?"

"Now, Maggie. Don't be daft! You know I been 'ere in the day before," Allan replied, his teasing smile lighting his face.

"Aye, and what'll people say if you're in my house?"

"They'll say, 'who's that lucky woman with 'er 'air a mess an' 'er skirts on backwards?'"

Allan's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and he was firmly but gently pushing Maggie back into her cottage.

"Allan, stop!"

"Come on, Maggie," he whispered against her ear, making her red hair tickle her neck with his breath, "I could use a bit o' comfort just now."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Can't we talk about it later? I just need you right now. Please, Maggie."

Maggie turned to look up at her sometime lover's troubled blue eyes. She sighed, knowing she would give in as she always did. Glancing around furtively, she noted that no one was about to notice them ducking into the cottage and quickly grabbed Allan's hand, leading him into the dark interior before shutting the door.

"You'll 'ave to be quick about it, and quiet," she admonished.

Allan grinned, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.

"That's what I love about you, Mags—you're all 'eart, you are."

Maggie frowned at him, and then indicated his bulging pants.

"I could always change my mind, you know."

"All right, all right," Allan conceded, unlacing his pants.

Maggie dropped to the floor, going to her hands and knees before lifting her skirts.

"I don't even get the bed?" Allan asked incredulously.

"The bed creaks! Remember last time, when it broke in the middle? I'll not be explainin' to the neighbors why you're in 'ere fixin' my bed in the bright mornin'."

Allan dropped to the ground behind her, feeling more like a hound servicing a bitch than like a man getting comfort from his woman; still, the sight of her pert white ass in the air had him taking a more opportunistic tack.

Maggie wiggled her hips impatiently and Allan obliged, pushing into her until he was buried all the way before pausing. Maggie pulled away and pushed back at him, urging him on, and Allan complied, thrusting quickly in and out of her until he found his release. Transaction complete, Maggie pulled off of him and rose, straightening her skirts and dusting off her palms.

"I suppose you'll be wantin' a meal now," she asked as Allan stood and re-laced his pants. He looked thoughtful for a moment, as though this were a new idea.

"Well, yeah, that'd be nice. You make a grand breakfast, Mags," Allan complemented her as he pulled her stiff form into his arms to kiss her neck.

"Leave off! I've things to do else I'll be missed, and I'll not have the old biddies' tongues wagging on my account."

Maggie turned into his arms, reluctant to leave her sweet and patient lover, despite her nervousness at being the center of the town gossip. Usually, they had more time to play, and to relax together afterwards, but not when he came to her—for some inexplicable reason—first thing in the morning. Allan kissed her mouth, pulling her close, and she pushed at the wall of his chest, leaning back until their lips broke contact.

"I won't be gone but a few minutes, if you want eggs with your breakfast," she admonished before escaping out the door.

Allan grinned and sat down to wait. Maggie wasn't real love, but she was fun when she wasn't in a hurry.

Allan might have dozed off for a bit, but the next thing he knew, he was defending himself against a screaming wild woman.

"How could you? How could you be so selfish? You betrayed us, you lying, thieving…" Maggie's outburst was punctured by well-aimed household implements, and Allan soon found himself even dirtier than he had been, with fresh new bruises on top of the ones Robin had given him.

"'ang on, 'ang on! What are you on about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know! You spied for Sir Guy! You betrayed Robin Hood! You got people killed!"

"Oi!" Allan ducked another piece of crockery that would have knocked him cold if he had not put his arms up. Gossip traveled fast—Allan was painfully aware of that now.

"Get out of my house! And don't you ever come back here, do you understand me? You're nothing to me!"

Maggie's words were like déjà vu to Allan—very nearly the exact words his father had spoken when he had thrown Allan out of his house so many years before.

Allan strode angrily from the cottage, refusing to run even as clods of dirt began pelting his back from Maggie's angry throws. He really did have nowhere to go now, he reflected, as he made his way out of Locksley, the glares of its citizens burning into him. _And no one to give two spits about me, either,_ he thought darkly.

 _They sure didn't 'ate me when I was bringin' 'em food, but let a man try an' get a little somethin' for 'imself and…_ Allan stopped at the edge of the village, turning to look back at the manor. Guy. If he had not fallen into Guy's hands and been tortured, if Guy had not offered him security for a little conversation, he would not be in this spot now. Guy owed him, and Allan would make sure Guy saw just how indispensable Allan could be. He would give himself security, and Robin and his ideals be damned—after all, when was the last time _ideals_ had put food in his belly? He would show them—he would show them that Allan A' Dale _was_ worthy, no matter what everyone else thought.


End file.
